


One Moment More

by ExistentialFish



Series: Fatal AU [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Father-Son Relationship, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Little bit of disassociation, Oldest Wilbur Soot, One Shot, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Phil POV, Trauma, family dyanmics, middle brother Technoblade, sort of hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExistentialFish/pseuds/ExistentialFish
Summary: When Phil watched Tommy and Techno leave for the festival, he hadn't felt any need to go with them. Now he wishes he had, if only for the sake of having one last moment with his youngest son.---Or, a sequel to my Fatal au, in which Techno brings Tommy home to bury. Father and son have a hard time coping, but they have each other. (first story not necessary in order to understand this one, probably.)
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Fatal AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094693
Comments: 21
Kudos: 267





	One Moment More

**Author's Note:**

> I'd recommend reading the first fic to learn how Tommy died, but it's not necessary for understanding this fic.
> 
> Beta'd and partially inspired by TeenySparrows.

Phil wasn’t worried. It was just a festival, after all. Techno was capable, Tommy had potions, they could handle themselves. They didn’t need Phil to go with them. So he stayed home. He had a relaxing day, which was nice despite him still wondering how his sons were faring. He hoped Tommy wasn’t causing Techno too much trouble.

After a while Phil found himself glancing out the window and idly scanning the snowy horizon for any sign of his sons’ returns. It was an old habit from when Techno and Wilbur were teens and full of wanderlust. In between his glances, Phil kept himself busy. He read, he ate, he mended Tommy’s spare jacket. He wasn’t worried, he trusted his sons to come back in one piece.

Phil should have learned his lesson from Wilbur. Never leave a damaged child alone.

He first spotted Techno at the far edge of his vision. He smiled, settling down even further, glad his sons were nearly home. He hadn’t seen Tommy, but then again he’d only barely seen Techno. They’d be home soon enough and Phil was sure Tommy would talk his ear off about whatever happened, so he enjoyed one more moment of peace.

The next time he glanced out the window Techno was closer, but he was moving slower than he usually did. There was a heaviness to his steps as he trudged through the snow despite the quickly dimming light, and… he was alone. Phil frowned and leaned closer to the window, squinting. No Tommy to the left, nor to the right. Then Phil took a closer look at Techno, and his heart dropped as he realized his son was holding someone in his arms.

Phil scrambled to his feet, only dimly aware of the clatter as his chair toppled over. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled open the door as he yanked his boots on with one hand. He was running before he even had time to think, boots only half tied and hands empty. He didn’t grab anything, couldn’t grab anything. All he could think about was getting to his youngest son’s side.

It’s fine, he thought to himself as he sprinted, something desperate clawing up his chest. It’s fine. Tommy must have been injured – not good, but manageable. He’d need health potions – Phil should have grabbed some, could turn back now to get them but his feet kept moving forward despite the thought – and he’d need rest. It’d be a pain to keep him still as he recovered, but it’d be fine, it had to be fine.

“Techno!” He shouted as he neared the pair. “Tommy!”

Techno’s head jerked up and the frightened thing in Phil’s chest _wailed_. There were faint tear tracks on Techno’s cheeks and guilt lancing his eyes. Not good, not good at all. Tommy must be badly injured, he must be, but Techno was moving so slowly. If Tommy’s hurt he should be going faster, to get Tommy help sooner. Why wasn’t he? A piece of Phil knew why but he pushed it down, refusing to entertain the thought. He clung to ignorance for a moment longer. Tommy was injured. Tommy needed his help. Phil needed to get to Tommy.

Phil slid to a stop in front of them, staring at the body in Techno’s arms through the fading light. His hands shook as he reached for Tommy. Techno flinched a little but held still to let Phil examine his youngest. Phil could see dark, ugly bruises marrying Tommy’s skin and blood on his face, and his stomach sank even lower.

“What does he need?” Phil asked, clinging to hope even as he felt the lifeless chill of Tommy’s skin. “We have – bandages, does he need bandages? Health potions? We should get him out of the cold-”

“Dad,” Techno said, and Phil froze. Techno almost never called Phil Dad, and certainly not while sounding so pleading. Phil’s frantic movements slowed as he let the clear truth sink in.

“Please,” Phil whispered.

“I’m so sorry.”

Phil swayed, numbness washing through him. He lifted a hand to his cheeks, but they were dry. Phil knew he should be crying. He wanted to cry. But strangely… nothing came.

“We need to bury him,” Phil said, his voice worryingly devoid of any emotion besides resignation.

Techno grimaced and clutched Tommy tighter. “Not tonight. In the morning, so it can have our full attention.”

Phil nodded, and Techno glanced around at the darkness that had descended around them. Mobs had started to spawn and, seeing Phil’s lack of weapons, he mutely held Tommy out towards him. Phil’s arms shook a little as he reached for his young son, but as soon as the boy was in his arms Phil’s grip grew sturdy. He held Tommy close to his chest, trying not to think about how that would be the last time he ever got to do so.

Techno cleared a safe path for him and Phil followed behind. On the walk back he still shed no tears, but found himself slowing his steps to be able to hold Tommy for just a little longer. One moment more, he told himself with every step. He only wanted one moment more (he would want one moment more for the rest of his life, this Phil knew.)

They reached the house and brought Tommy downstairs. Techno gestured for Phil to set Tommy down, looking away with a grimace. Phil’s arms froze of their own accord, cradling his son close. He studied his boy’s face in the torch light. The bruises and blood made for an ugly sight, but beneath it all was the same charming features, the same crooked nose from when techno hit him too hard while sparring as kids, the same faint freckles that Tommy denied having, the same mouth that pulled into an infectious smile and told jokes that never failed to make Phil laugh. Phil’s throat felt tight, but still, no tears.

Just a moment more, a voice inside him begged. But Phil set his son down, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and watched Techno lay a sheet over him. Father and son stood in silence for a moment before Techno muttered something about dinner and hurried out. Phil stayed though, despite the chill of the basement. He sat with his back to the wall, watching the hidden shape with numb grief. He wanted to be there in case a miracle happened. Or, more likely, in case Tommy’s ghost appeared.

No ghost appeared that night, nor in the morning, nor by late afternoon when Techno came to help Phil get Tommy’s body ready for the burial and move him outside. Techno had picked a spot nearby and had already dug out a grave. Phil stared at it blankly. He didn't know what to do here. Wilbur had never been given a grave. Phil was at a loss for how to handle it.

He and Techno shared a look, unspoken words coiling between them. Silently, they lowered Tommy down into the earth. Phil wasn't sure if he was meant to say anything before Tommy was buried or after or at all, and he knew techno was similar, so he just started with what felt right.

He started first with words of regret that felt hollow and tasteless on his tongue, mournful things that he could imagine Tommy scoffing at. He eased into a different tactic – he started to talk about Tommy’s youth, the games he used to play with his brothers, the way he used to steal cookies fresh off the tray whenever Phil made them, how as a baby his eyes would practically sparkle when he was taken outside, so Phil knew from the start he’d have a wild, adventurous spirit. He talked about how as a toddler nothing could calm his tantrums or night terrors quite like Wilbur singing to him, and how in turn Wilbur would play with him to cure his bad moods. He spoke about how proud he’d been of Tommy for being so independent, of how sad he was he’d missed some of Tommy's growth spurts. He rambled about the jokes Tommy would tell him, the ones that made Phil laugh so hard they were still vivid in his mind, and about how Phil had never doubted, from the moment he was born to the moment Phil saw him off yesterday morning, that Tommy was his son, through and through. He talked until his throat grew dry and his legs got sore, until the words started to blend together in his ears. He never ran out of things to say – that simply wasn't possible when talking about Tommyinnit – but eventually, his voice trailed off and he ended his “speech” with a quiet promise that Phil loved him, missed him already, and would never stop thinking of Tommy as one of his boys.

There was silence for a few moments before techno started speaking, gravelly and hesitant. Phil barely caught any of it, focus enraptured with the grave. He caught a few snippets though Techno talked for less time than Phil had.

Neither of them wanted to move when Techno fell silent, but eventually Techno sighed and picked up the shovel, scooping up some dirt and dropping it into the grave. Phil flinched and barely stopped himself from reaching out towards the grave. Wait another moment, his heart screamed, just one. Phil desperately wanted to pull Tommy back up, keep him safe in his arms, but he couldn't, he knew that. Belatedly, he lifted the second shovel and joined Techno in filling the grave. Once it was finished, Techno set Tommy’s helmet against the gravestone, and Phil the sword he’d been planning to gift him for his birthday.

The two men sat in silence for an hour, then two, before Technoblade stood. He cast a brief look at Phil before going inside. Phil stayed in place.

Wait another moment, his mind commanded. You must be here for him this time. Phil wasn't sure what he was waiting for – a ghost, perhaps. But, his heart and mind begged him to stay and so he did.

Phil stayed out there all night, shivering even in his thick cloak. In the morning, Techno came out and wordlessly lit a fire beside him, and in the evening he brought Phil warm soup and another cloak and fed the fire further.

Phil stayed there through the night once again, and through the next day as well, barely moving or sleeping or doing anything aside from thinking and watching the grave for any sign of a ghost. Any thoughts of going inside were pushed down swiftly by the painful ache in his chest. Phil wasn’t ready to go in yet, wasn't ready to let go. He just needed one moment more.

On the third day, Techno stayed when he brought Phil his soup. He slowly sat beside him, a tense set to his shoulders. Phil glanced at him to find him studying the gravestone with weariness and guilt etched into his expression. He stayed silent, and waited for Techno to speak.

“I’m sorry Phil,” Techno forced out after another minute. “I’m so sorry.”

“Techno-”

“It was my job to protect him, I should've – I didn't – I thought he’d be okay. I should have been more focused on him, shouldn't have let him run in there in the first place, I’m sorry, I’m so… I’m so sorry.” Techno’s shoulders curled in and he gripped his hands together tightly in his lap.

Phil reached out, touching his son’s shoulder. Techno flinched slightly before shakily turning to meet Phil's eyes.

“It’s not your fault mate, okay? You didn't do this. I don't blame you. And I think Tommy, for all his bluster and eagerness to point fingers, wouldn't blame you either.”

Phil could see doubt in Techno’s eyes and lightly squeezed his shoulder. “You know that right? It’s normal, feeling guilty. I feel guilty too. Maybe if I had gone with you...” Phil trailed off. “But what’s done is done. We can’t go back and change anything. That doesn't stop the guilt, but… someday we’ll have to learn to live with that knowledge.”

“It was hard when Wilbur died,” Techno whispered. “But even though we’d been living in the same place, we didn't see each other much. And he was… distant. But this feels – it feels like something was ripped out of my side. Tommy’s been sticking around, bugging me for so long, I can’t… it feels like a chunk of my world just vanished into thin air. I wake up and the house is so quiet, and every room I enter feels like its missing some critical piece. I don't want... I don't think I can move on from that, that absence. I can’t stop focusing on it.”

“I know,” Phil murmured, and pulled Techno into a hug. “I know. Someday, we’ll have to move on. The world keeps turning, and someday we’ll have to move with it. But for now… for now we deserve to linger in it for a little while. It’s okay to grieve, Techno. It’s okay not to feel like you're ready to try to feel okay yet. We don’t have to be okay. Someday we will be, but for now, we get to take a moment to miss him.”

Techno pressed closer into Phil’s side than he had since he was young. His arms wrapped around Phil and Phil ran a hand shakily through his last son’s hair, grateful to feel him solid and alive. For the first time in days he let his focus slip away from watching for Tommy’s ghost, let himself stop worrying about what he’d do next to make up for failing his son in life. For just a moment, he let himself hold his child in the light of a setting sun and mourned what he’d lost. The tears came, then, spilling down Phil’s cheeks and making his body shake. He held Techno close and cried, cried for his youngest, for his oldest, for his regrets, for the second chances he wished he had.

He wished he could stay there forever, with Techno safe in his arms and the ability to grieve finally easing the pressure in his chest. He knew that wasn't realistic, and he knew Tommy wouldn't want that, and he knew someday he would have to put his loss aside and continue living.

But for now, he and Techno would let themselves grieve and hold onto the boy they missed so dearly, not for only a moment more, but for as many moments as they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Next up... ghost Tommy...? Phantommy...? We'll see.
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, comments, or critiques, let me know down below. They're much appreciated.


End file.
